Phaeton

Phaeton (pronounced feyt-n (U) or fey-i-tn (non-U))

(1) Any of various light, four-wheeled carriages, originally without folding tops, having one or two seats facing forward, used first in the nineteenth century.  In describing horse-drawn carriages, phaeton was later used to describe many with convertible tops (originally often as spider (or spyder) phaeton).

(2) An early-mid twentieth century touring-car with four or more seats and (later) sometimes with removable side-windows and a convertible top; some with dual-cowl coachwork.

(3) A model name for automobiles which came to mean nothing in particular beyond a hint at "more expensive".

1585-1595: 1742: From the (1735) French phaeton, from the Latin Phaëtōn, from the Ancient Greek Φᾰέθων (Phaéthōn).  Phaëthon, the son of Clymene and the sun god Helios, gained permission (from whom was contested) to drive his father's sun-chariot but, being unable to control the horses, was struck by Zeus with a thunderbolt and slain after nearly setting on fire the whole Earth.  His name translated as “shining” and was from phaein & the verb phaethô (to shine, to make gleam), from phaos (light), from the primitive Indo-European root bha- (to shine).   Even before the carriages were so named, phaeton (the spellings varied) was used to describe someone who recklessly handled horses and carts or carriages.  The alternative spellings were Phaethon, Phaéthôn, Phaëton, Phaeton, Phæton & Phaëthon.  The adjectives phaetonlike & phateonesque are non-standards but have been used by historians of the industry to describe the coachwork of vehicles (built usually in the 1930s) with characteristics straddling those of phaetons and convertible sedans without being a "pure" implementation of either.  Phaeton & phaetoneer are nouns; the noun plural is phaetons.

Phaethon (1878), watercolor & pencil in the symbolist tradition by Gustave Moreau (1826-1898), Musée du Louvre, Paris.

The myth from antiquity was a cautionary tale about the impetuosity of adolescent youth but, being from Greek mythology, there’s more than one account of Phaëthon and the story of his fall was told with two distinct traditions concerning his genealogy, one making him the son of Eos and Cephalus, the other of Helios and Clymene.  In the second and most popular version, Phaethon was raised by his mother, who, until he reached adolescence, concealed from the boy his father's identity.  Impressed by his illustrious lineage but also seeking acknowledgement of his status as a child of a god, Phaethon asked his father to allow him drive the sun-chariot (somewhat akin to handing one’s sixteen year-old son the keys to one’s V12 Ferrari).  Duly granted, Phaethon began the journey by following his father’s usual route across the vaults of heaven but, inexperienced, became alarmed a finding himself so high in the sky, the sights of the animals in the starts (the signs of the Zodiac) becoming too frightening so he deviated from the eternally ordained path.  In panic, he dropped too low, scorching the once fertile plains of Africa to desert and risking setting alight the whole of Earth.  Out of control, he again soared too high, prompting the stars to complain to Zeus.  Appalled, to prevent a global conflagration, Zeus smote the boy with his thunderbolt, hurling him dead into the River Eridanus where the Heliades (his five sisters) paid him funeral honours.  A variant on the tale is the Heliades (Merope, Helia, Phoebe, Aetheria & Dioxippe (or Lampetia)), lamenting his death, wept for him on the banks of the Eridanus where they were transformed into tall poplars, their tears becoming drops of amber.  That may, given the circumstances, seem harsh but in that version it was said their arboreal metamorphosis was a punishment because it was they who had given Phaethon the chariot and horses of the Sun without the permission of Helios.  While the myths of Antiquity often were unforgiving, that twist in the tale has attracted latter-day feminist criticism because it’s part of the “blame women” narrative that, for several thousand years, permeated Western literature, “poisoning” politics and culture.  In death, Phaethon was placed amongst the stars as the constellation Auriga (the Charioteer) or transformed into the god of the star that the Greeks named Phaethon (the planets Jupiter or Saturn depending on the translation).

1932 Cadillac V16 Special Phaeton with (V12) coach-work by Fisher.

Phaetons were a type of type of light, open four-wheeled horse carriage, English in 1742 picking up the word from the French form, coined in 1735, the link being the exposure of the passengers to the sun and until well into the modern age, they remained popular, despite the availability of carriages with partially or fully enclosed coach-work.  Indeed, even if not so named, phaetons were the most common form in the early age of the automobile, some supplied with no folding top, some with one and removable side windows also appeared, something supplied by the manufacturer, sometimes by third-party "accessory shops", an industry that for decades flourished and, in rather different form, exists to this day.  As enclosed coachwork and integrated (retractable) side windows became close to standardized, phaetons were by the 1930s close to extinct and the companion four-door convertibles would soon follow, becoming a niche last filled in 1967 when the last convertible version of the memorable fourth series Lincoln Continentals (1961-1969) left the line, a model that would prove to be the last convertible ever built by Lincoln.  The core element of the phaeton (no side windows) lived on the (most British) roadsters of the post-war years although by the early 1960s most of them had gained effete luxuries like external door handles and windows able to be wound down (although other primitive features would endure), all supplied with at least a folding soft-top and often a rigid hard-top (in metal or fibreglass) too.  Since the Shelby American Cobra was in 1967 driven extinct by the beginning of what proved an onslaught of US safety and exhaust emission regulations, only a handful of small-scale manufactures have produced the traditional, minimalist roadsters and none have put phaetons into production, there being some demand for the former, none for the latter.

The Dual-Cowl Phaetons

1935 Packard Twelve dual-cowl Sport Phaeton with coach-work by Dietrich (left) and 1935 Duesenberg SJ dual-cowl Phaeton with coach-work by La Grande.  The unusual, rakish line of the Duesenberg's convertible top exists because in 1937, Rollston Coachworks (New York) was commissioned to fit the rare option of a fixed vee-windshield, a visual and aerodynamic enhancement from a time before curved-glass screens became practical.

Among the grandest and most romantic of the pre-war phaetons were the dual-cowl convertibles (ie a second windscreen was fitted for the rear seat passengers, doubtless an addition deemed "thoughtful" by women with "big hair") of the 1930s although, being very expensive in a time of what was for much of the population a time of austerity, few were built, the rich often reluctant to consume too conspicuously (though, behind closed doors, the extravagances continued).  Unlike the original horse-drawn carriages from which the name was appropriated, the cars so-described usually had a folding roof and either removable side windows (usually then called "side-curtains") or even glass able to be rolled-down.  Purists of course insist any "true" phaeton has no side windows, nor any roof (rigid or folding) but those were only ever conventions and not always adhered to even during the horse & buggy era.  In the age of the automobile, everything became elastic and "phaeton" became just another model name to be used as a manufacturer saw fit.  In an early example of this linguistic promiscuity, by the 1930s Buick was selling what would now be though a "four-door convertible" (with integrated winding windows) yet continued to use the phaeton label.  By then, the design parameters of the old designations from the days of horse-drawn carriages had long become "frayed around the edges" and whether modest Fords or the big dual-cowl Duesenbergs, Chryslers, Lincolns, Cadillacs and Packards, all were marketed as "phaetons" although the use of tops and side windows could vary.  In the post-war years, the four-door hardtop really was the the spiritual successor (in the sense of market place positioning) of the inter-war phaeton as rapidly the four-door convertibles faded from the scene; by the late 1970s, the four-door hardtops too would go extinct except for the odd example in the quirky world of the JDM (Japanese Domestic Market).  Today, like landau, phaeton is just a name which means nothing in particular although many seem aware both are evocative of something from the past.  In recent decades, there have been many off-road and utilitarian vehicles which, technically, are phaeton-like but they're hardly in the spirit of the machines of the 1930s.  

Parade Phaetons

Before there was crooked Hillary (Hillary Clinton (b 1947; US secretary of state 2009-2013)), there was tricky Dicky.  Vice-President Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974) at President Dwight Eisenhower's (1890-1969; POTUS 1953-1961) second Inaugural Parade, 21 January 1957 in 1952 Chrysler lmperial dual-cowl Parade Phaeton (one of three built).

Although "true" phaetons in the traditional sense, the name of Chrysler's 1952 parade cars delights obsessives in the collector-car community because of the corporate history.  Introduced in 1926, the Chrysler Imperial sat atop the company's brand hierarchy until 1954 when Imperial was (re-)launched as a standalone brand, the an arrangement lasting until 1975 (although even by 1972 the Chrysler name had crept back somewhat and the half-hearted revivals in 1981-1983 & 1990-1993 are not fondly remembered).  The 1952 parade phaetons thus properly are designated "Chrysler Imperials" although, being updated by the factory in 1955 with much of the sheet-metal and other fixtures from the 1956 Imperial, they resemble the latter and are sometimes erroneously so described.  So, although the appearance would suggest "Imperial", pedants gleefully will correct that to "Chrysler Imperial".

In happier times: Wedding procession of the ex-Duke & Duchess of York, traveling in the 1902 State Landau Carriage, London, 1986.

What the parade phaetons were intended to be were motorized versions of the "state landaus" now most familiar from footage of princes (and one ex-prince) of the UK's royal family getting married (at least to their first wife).  The best-known is the 1902-vintage "State Landau Carriage", seen of late in the wedding processions of (1) the then Prince of Wales (now King Charles (b 1948, King of the UK since 2022)) to Lady Diana Spencer (1961-1997) on 29 July, 1981 (2), the then Prince Andrew (now the ex-Prince, ex-Admiral, ex-Duke of York etc Andrew Mountbatten-Windsor (b 1960)) to Sarah Ferguson (b 1959) on 23 July, 1986 and (3) Prince William (b 1982 and since 2022 the Prince of Wales) to Catherine Middleton (b 1982) on 29 April 2011.  The State Landau Carriage had been built in 1902 by Messrs Hooper for the coronation procession (9 August, 1902) through London of of Edward VII (1841–1910; King of the UK & Emperor of India 1901-1910) and it's since been a central feature in much of the panoply assembled for "royal family set pieces", many of which are spectacles of most recent origin, created for the family's new role as content providers for mass media (color television probably the platform most influencing this latter-day choreography of spectacle).  Some of the royal marriages of those who sat in the carriage to and from the church where they promised state and God to remain together till death do them part didn't end well but, clearly not superstitious, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge ("Will & Kate" to readers of the Daily Mail) choose the 1902 Landau although Prince Harry (b 1984) and Meghan Markle (b 1981) decided not to risk the curse, riding instead in one of the five Ascot landaus in the Royal Mews.  Like phaeton, "landau" is a word that in earlier centuries once had a precise meaning when appearing in a coach-builder's catalogue but is now is just another model name. 

Chrysler Newport dual-cowl Phaeton by LeBaron (six of which were built in 1940-1941, left), 1952 Chrysler Imperial dual-cowl Phaeton (one of three, centre) & 1997 Chrysler dual-cowl Phaeton concept car (a genuine one-off, right).

Recalling the 1940 Chrysler Newport, the three dual-cowl parade phaetons were built on the chassis of the 1952 Chrysler Imperial Crown Limousine with the wheelbase extended by 3 inches (75 mm) to 147½ (3,746)).  All were constructed for ceremonial use by the US government and the municipal corporations of New York City and Los Angeles and they still make the odd appearance.  Obviously, a dual-cowl parade phaeton is a niche commodity and the three were thought the last of the breed but, in 1997, unexpectedly, Chrysler displayed a concept car in the same vein.  While obviously not intended for production, it did include an intoxicatingly attractive specification including a bespoke 48 valve, 333 cubic-inch (5.4 litre) V12 engine rated at 425 HP (horsepower).  With 5.4 litres and 425 horsepower (referencing respectively the 331 cubic inch V8 in the 1952 cars and the (understated) power output of the corporation's 426 Street Hemi V8 (1966-1971)) both being iconic numbers from Chrysler's happier past, the nostalgia button was pressed but the styling was something of a curate's egg.  While judged mostly an accomplished exercise, the front divided opinion; one could see what the designers were getting at but, to blend elements from both 1940 and 1955 may have been "a pastiche too far" and the thing may have been more admired still had the lines of 1955 front clip more slavishly been followed, the approach the Chinese manufacturer Honqqi wisely pursues for its "retro" exercises.     

Comrade Stalin's 1936 Packard Standard Eight Phaeton.  The Kremlin's "state parade car", it wasn't used during Moscow's colder months.

With roots in the nineteenth century, Packard had been one of the US industry's most storied names and, during the inter-war years (1919-1941), was among the most prestigious brands in the nation.  According to Ferrari folklore, it had been the sound of Packard V12s on race tracks that inspired Enzo Ferrari (1989-1988) to decide the machines to bear his name must “canta la canzone dei dodici” (sing the song of twelve) although, like Winston Churchill (1875-1965; UK prime-minister 1940-1945 & 1951-1955), many sometimes dubious quotes have been attributed to il Commendatore (his apparently envious quip about the Jaguar E-Type (XKE, 1961-1974) the best known) but all at least sound like something “he might have said” and, for folkloric purposes, that’s good enough.  What is uncontested was his remark “Una Ferrari è una macchina a dodici cilindri” (a Ferrari is a twelve cylinder car), explaining why the 206 GT (1967-1969) was a “Dino” and not a “Ferrari”.  Clearly that applied only to the road cars because, on the track, the factory had enjoyed great success in the 1950s & 1960s using four, six & eight cylinder engines but reality anyway bit in the more troubled 1970s and Ferrari V8s became (by the factory’s historic standards), “mass-market” road cars.

A 1936 Packard Standard Eight Phaeton was for years the designated “parade car” in the Kremlin garage but, as tensions rose in the Soviet Union, comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953) became more security conscious, ceasing to ride in open-topped vehicles, preferring the armored Packard Twelve limousine gifted to him by Franklin Delano Roosevelt (FDR, 1882–1945, POTUS 1933-1945).  Despite weighing some six tons (one door alone a hefty 348 kg (767 lb)), the 473 cubic in (7.8 litre) V12 was able to propel the car (despite its suspect aerodynamic qualities) to a reputed top speed of 130 km/h (80 mph); at that pace the gas (petrol) consumption would have been “heroic” (likely mid-single figures in mpg (miles per gallon) terms) but high fuel bills didn’t greatly trouble the comrades in the Politburo.  The fine engineering in the Kremlin’s fleet of Packards proved useful in the early years of the Cold War, the ZiS 110 sedan (1946-1958) & ZiS-115 limousine (1948-1949) (the brand better known in the West as “Zil”) both “reversed-engineered” (ie copied) versions of the 1942 Packard.  Reverse-engineering was a notable feature of Soviet industry and much of its post-war re-building of machinery for the armed forces involved the process, exemplified by the Tupolev Tu-4 heavy bomber (1947), a remarkably close copy of the US Boeing B-29 Superfortress (1942), a reasonably achievement given some of the advanced metallurgical techniques then available on to the Americans.

End of the line: the gape-mouthed 1958 Packard Hawk, one of the so-called "Packardbakers".  Of the final 2,622 Packards made in 1958, 588 were Hawks.

Other countries also adopted the practice that, in some places, continues to this day for both consumer goods and military equipment.  After spending the war years engaged in military production (notably a version of the Merlin V12 aero-engine built under license from Rolls-Royce), Packard emerged in 1945 in sound financial state but found the new world challenging, eventually in 1953 merging with fellow struggling independent, Studebaker.  Beset form the start by internal conflict, things went from bad to worse and, after dismal sales in 1958-1959 of the final Packards (which were really modified Studebakers and derided by many as “Packardbakers”), the Packard brand was retired, the Studebaker-Packard Corporation in 1962 reverting to again become Studebaker but it was to no avail, the last Studebaker leaving the line (in Canada!) in 1967.

For both, it had been a rapid and precipitous decline from great success, one notable product of Studebaker being the 152,000-odd US6 trucks supplied by the US to the Soviet Union under the wartime “lend-lease” arrangements, comrade Stalin during the Tehran Conference (Nov-Dec 1943) raising a toast and freely admitting “Without the machines we received through Lend-Lease, we would have lost the war.”.  Unfortunately, the still sometimes quoted tale that comrade Stalin sent a personal “thank-you letter” to the Studebaker Corporation appears wholly apocryphal.  According to the Studebaker National Museum, an official “letter of appreciation” from the Soviet government was received through “normal diplomatic channels” but it neither mentioned comrade Stalin nor bore his signature.  The rugged US6 (nicknamed Studer by Red Army troops who much appreciated its durability and ability to handle the mud and snow so often a feature of the Eastern Front) appears often in the conflict’s photographic record because it was the platform used to mount the famous Katyusha rocket launchers (a weapon nicknamed “Stalin’s Organs” because of the distinctive sound made when being fired in multiple salvos).  In the post-war years, the WS6 was also reverse-engineered, influencing several generations of Soviet truck design, a breed admired more for toughness than aesthetics.

FDR & Ford

1937 Ford V8 Phaeton

As the American car buyer came to prefer the creature comforts offered by closed coupés & sedans or convertibles (with "proper", wind-down glass windows), sales of the more basically configured roadsters and phaetons began in the 1930s rapidly to decline.  In small numbers, the exotic dual cowl phaetons continued to appeal to those who wanted something extravagant in which to be chauffeured on warm, sunny days but for those for whom economics dictated ownership of a single vehicle, the attractions of protection from the elements was persuasive, especially in a northern winter.  Surprisingly, it was Ford, a pioneer (if not the originator) in the techniques of mass-production and the optimization of economies of scale that, despite the line's shrinking profitability, kept the roadster and phaeton on the books longer than most, their last roadster built in 1937 and the final phaeton the following year although production in 1938 ran to a mere 1169 cars, little more than an administrative inconvenience for a company used to measuring unit-production in chunks of tens of thousands.  When the Ford line was updated for 1939, the phaeton was deleted from the catalogue.

FDR and two presidential advisors (his granddaughters) in his 1936 Ford V8 Phaeton (one of 13 body-styles Ford that year made available for the V8), supervising the construction of the Franklin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library and Museum (dedicated 1941), Hyde Park, New York (left) and FDR in Phaeton with signature (Cocktail length) cigarette holder (right).

Now on permanent display in the museum (the odometer reading 19,143 miles (30,808 km), the New York license plate was “3” with the governor allocated “1” and the lieutenant governor “2” (that hierarchy reflecting late eighteenth century political thought in the states, a view that would decline in significance after the US Civil War (1861-1865)).  Afflicted at 39 by polio that left him paralyzed from the waist down, FDR’s cars were fitted with hand controls for the throttle, brakes & clutch, a cigarette dispenser always included as was a customized clip for his cigarette holder.  By social convention, in the US, men rarely used a cigarette holder longer than 4 inches (100 mm) although there were longer varieties and the “Opera length” was a favorite of Vogue’s editors who liked to have a slender model photographed elegantly holding one at a time when smoking was both “sexy” and “fashionable”.  The “Operas” typically were between 16-20 inches (400-200 mm) while more conveniently-sized versions included the “Theatre length” (10-14 (250-350)), “Dinner length” (4-6 (100-150)) and “Cocktail length” (1-3 (25-75).

The Art Deco Society of New York's lovey art deco examples of the sort of cigarette case and holders that should have been in the handbag of the modern young woman.

It’s an urban myth Vogue ever recommended that if wearing something “sleeveless”, women’s choice of cigarette holder should be in inverse proportion to their gloves' length (ie an Opera thus be paired with a “Short” or “Wrist”, a Theatre with an “Above Wrist” or “Three Quarter”, a Dinner with a “Below Elbow or “Elbow” and a Cocktail with a “Upper Arm”, “Underarm” or “Maxi”).  That might sound counterintuitive but it was claimed the goal was for the holder to be "in accord" with the expanse of skin on display, not the material of the glove.  It was fake news but appears sometimes still, along with claims there were in polite society “strict” rules of etiquette about such things.  There was a widely adopted convention under which women removed their gloves before smoking, eating or drinking but that was just good sense and glove length was anyway dictated by the time of day or nature of the event to which a pair was worn.  Vogue did however confirm a cigarette holder was “an essential accessory for any fashionable woman” but was most focused more on the materials used in construction, a 1930 article listing what a “smart woman” should keep in her handbag, recommending “a black enamel cigarette holder in a small eggshell case by Dunhill (for day) and a Cartier gold and tortoiseshell cigarette holder (for evening; other “handbag essentials” included “a tortoiseshell comb, a bill clip, a vanity case, a cigarette case and other “examples of charm and good taste.”  It’s little wonder Vogue came to be called the “fashion bible” although in the modern era not all followed all the advice; as far as is known, Lindsay Lohan has never been photographed using a cigarette holder or carrying a cigarette case and although smoking can't be recommended, she did make it look alluring.

2004 Volkswagen Phaeton W12.  Well-built, dynamically more than competent with great attention to detail (the trunk (boot) lid's hinges pieces of mechanical artistry) but, even by the slight standards of the market segment, the depreciation rate was extraordinary.

A Volkswagen that should have been an Audi or (not inconceivable, even then) a Lamborghini (both brands part of the VW conglomerate), the Volkswagen Phaeton was produced between 2002-2016 as a four-door sedan in a standard and LWB (long-wheelbase configurations), the Phaeton name nothing to do with the traditional definition and chosen presumably because it was thought to impart some vague notion of exclusivity and wealth.  The name may have come from focus group sessions or have been MBA (Master of Business Administration) marketing-think but, in retrospect, naming it after a figure from Greek mythology who "crashed & burned" was perhaps tempting the gods of fate.  Because cars now mostly "look alike" (everybody's shapes now emerge from a wind-tunnel looking much the same), it's no longer as easy to fashion "brand identity" with appearance so the choice of name can help and what the company was at the time attempting to do was make people perceive Volkswagen as a true "luxury brand", the "modest success" (ie failure) enjoyed when the W8 engine was between 2001-2004 offered at high-price in the smaller VW Passat seemingly not a sufficiently salutatory lesson.  Volkswagen would once have had a solid base from which to "mover up-market because the Beetle (Type 1, 1938-2003), despite being a "low-priced" car, gained an admirable reputation for quality; inside, if felt as if forged from a billet of steel.  Unfortunately, nothing lasts forever and after 1974, when the company's shift to the flimsier world of FWD (front-wheel-drive) began in earnest, that reputation suffered; in a sense, the "Phaeton project" began a quarter century too late.  Why the MBAs didn’t take note of why Toyota created Lexus (so they would have their own "Audi") isn’t clear but they may have been the same folk who couldn’t understand the Maybach name made sense positioned below Mercedes-Benz, not above.  The principles used in the washing powder business or other sectors in which the MBAs have done good work are not universally transferable.

Mercedes-Benz 600 (W100, 1963-1981) Landaulet and two (SWB) sedans.

The 1970 Pullman Landaulet (one of twelve known informally as the "presidential" because the folding portion of the roof extended to the driver's compartment, the other 58 Landaulets having a convertible top only over the rear seat) was purchased by the Romanian government and used by comrade president Nicolae Ceaușescu (1918–1989; General Secretary of the Romanian Communist Party 1965-1989) until he and his wife were executed (by AK47) after a “people's tribunal” held a brief trial, the swiftness of which was aided by the court-appointed defense counsel who declared them both guilty, inter alia, of genocide.   Considering the fate of other fallen dictators, their end was less gruesome than might have been expected.  Comrade Josip Broz Tito (1892–1980; prime-minister or president of Yugoslavia 1944-1980) had a similar car (among other 600s) but he died undisturbed in his bed.

The blue SWB (short wheelbase) car to the rear is one of the few SWB models fitted with a divider between the front & rear compartments, the structure including a pair of hand-crafted timber writing tables and a refrigerated bar in the centre.  It was delivered in 1977 to the Iranian diplomatic service and maintained for the Shah’s use.  The 1969 SWB to the right (identified as a US market car by the disfiguring headlight treatment) had a less eventful past, purchased by a California real estate developer who took advantage of the Mercedes-Benz EDP (European Delivery Program, discontinued in 2020 after some 60 years), collecting the 600 from the Stuttgart factory.  With due respect to Californian property developers (and Paul VI (1897-1978; pope 1963-1978) who had a very special one), more than any other car the 600 seemed to attract dictators, leading drug dealers, megalomaniacs and those with dubious past or present (many owing several), the roll-call including:

Park Chung Hee (1917–1979; President of RoK (Republic of Korea (South Korea)) 1962-1979).

Comrade Enver Hoxha (1908-1985; dictator of Albanian 1944-1985) who was more of a Stalinist than comrade Stalin.

Pol Pot (Saloth Sâr; 1925–1998; dictator of the communist (Maoist) state of Democratic Kampuchea (Cambodia) 1975-1979).

François "Papa Doc" Duvalier (1907–1971; President of Haiti 1957-1971).

Jean-Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier (1951–2014; President of Haiti 1971-1986) who would have been a disappointment to his father.

Jean-Bédel Bokassa (1921–1996; President or Emperor of the CAR (Central African Republic) 1966-1979) who was never convicted of cannibalism.

Comrade Leonid Brezhnev (1906–1982; Soviet leader 1964-1982) who was fond of cars but an appallingly bad driver.

Comrade Fidel Castro (1926–2016; Prime Minister or President of Cuba 1959-2008).

Robert Mugabe (1924–2019; Prime Minister or President of Zimbabwe 1980-2017) who started off well.

Hirohita (Emperor Shōwa) 1901–1989; Emperor of Japan 1926-1989), the last of the World War II leaders and the one who worked out (after the dropping of two A-bombs) that "...the war situation has developed not necessarily to Japan's advantage".   

Jomo Kenyatta (circa 1897–1978; Prime Minister (1963-1964) & president of Kenya (1964-1978).

Daniel arap Moi (1924–2020; President of Kenya 1978-2002).

Ferdinand Marcos (1917–1989; President of the Philippines 1965-1986), now most famous for his wife having owned thousands of pairs of shoes. 

Kim Il Sung (Kim I, 1912–1994; Great Leader of DPRK (Democratic People's Republic of Korea (North Korea)) 1948-1994).

Kim Jong Il (Kim II, 1941-2011; Dear Leader of DPRK 1994-2011).

Kim Jong Un (Kim III, b 1982; Supreme Leader of DPRK since 2011 and thus far the dynasty's most entertaining content provider).

Saddam Hussein (1937–2006; President of Iraq 1979-2003).

Mohammad Reza Pahlavi (1919–1980; last Shah of Iran 1941-1979).

Comrade Chairman Mao Zedong (1893–1976; Chairman of the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) & paramount leader of the PRC (People's Republic of China) 1949-1976).

Comrade Deng Xiaoping (1904–1997; paramount leader of the PRC (People's Republic of China) 1978-1989).

Norodom Sihanouk (1922–2012; variously, off and on, King, head of state or Prime Minister of Cambodia 1941-2012) for whom the word "mercurial" might have been coined. 

Comrade Nicolae Ceaușescu (1918–1989; General Secretary of the Romanian Communist Party and dictator of Romania 1965-1989) who got the wife he deserved.

Comrade Josip Broz Tito (1892–1980; Prime Minister or President of Yugoslavia 1944-1980) who once threatened to send an assassin to kill comrade Stalin if the Soviet leader sent any more to Belgrade to murder him.  

His Excellency, President for Life, Field Marshal Al Hadji Doctor Idi Amin Dada, VC, DSO, MC, CBE, Lord of All the Beasts of the Earth and Fishes of the Seas and Conqueror of the British Empire in Africa in General and Uganda in Particular, (1928-2003; president of Uganda 1971-1979).  He also claimed the allegedly vacant throne of Scotland 

Mobutu Sese Seko (1930–1997; President of the of the DRC (Democratic Republic of the Congo) 1965-1971 and the (renamed) Zaire 1971-1997) for whom the political technique "Mobutoism" (a blend of crony capitalism, repression, murder and looting the state on such a scale was coined, "kleptocracy" not an adequate description. 

Herbert von Karajan (1908–1989; Austrian conductor who was only ever a "Nazi of convenience).

Coco Chanel, (1883-1971; French fashion designer forgiven for her indiscretions).

Hastings Banda (circa 1900-1997; Prime Minister or President of 1964-1994) who wasn't quite as bad as some.

Hosni Mubarak (1928–2020; President of Egypt 1981-2011) who sometimes shouted at Bill Clinton (b 1946; POTUS 1993-2001).

Balthazar Johannes "John" Vorster (1915–1983 Prime Minister (1966-1978) and President of South Africa 1978-1979).

Pieter Willem "P.W." Botha (1916–2006 Prime Minister (1978-1984) and President of South Africa 1984-1989).

Frederik Willem "F.W." de Klerk (1936–2021; President of South Africa 1989-1994) who found the state's 600 Pullman "embarrassingly large and otherwise excessive" and had it locked away in a garage.

General Muhammad Zia-ul-Haq (1924-1988; military ruler of Pakistan 1977-1988).

Omar Bongo (1935–2009; President of Gabon 1967-2009) who "stole a few bob".

Silvio Berlusconi (1936-2023; Prime Minister of Italy 1994-1995, 2001-2006 & 2008-2011) who got a bit of fun out of life.

Pablo Escobar (1949–1993; Colombian drug lord, narcoterrorist and zookeeper)

Zulfikar Ali Bhutto (1928–1979; President (1971-1973) and Prime Minister (1973-1977) of Pakistan, a member of one of the several families to have run Pakistan on the same basis as a "small family business".

Jeremy Clarkson (b 1960; former BBC (British Broadcasting Corporation) television presenter and now owner of Diddly Squat Farm).  Just as the 600's reputation was beginning to recover from the association with murderous dictators, drug lords and such, it was revealed Mr Clarkson owned one.  Experts suggest there may be no recovering from that.

The Shah's 600s at the Tehran Car Museum.

In exile, the Shah of Iran died of natural causes after being deposed in the 1979 revolution which created the Islamic Republic of Iran under the rule of the Imam, Grand Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini (1900-1989; Supreme Leader, Islamic Republic of Iran, 1979-1989).  The ayatollah's taste in cars was more modest but three of the Shah's Mercedes-Benz 600s are among the dozens on display (over a hundred in storage or undergoing restoration) at the Tehran Car Museum, open to the public Sunday-Wednesday (09:00-17:30) & Thursday & Friday (09:00-18:30).  It is closed on Saturday.   The museum is located at Azadi Square, Special Karaj Road, near Sepah Store while the office is situated on Resalat Highway, not far from Africa Highway, at the Foundation of the Oppressed, Building Number One, Fourth Floor, Cultural Institute of Museums.

That class of clientele associated with the 600 wasn't as drawn to the Volkswagen Phaeton.  For the top VW there were six cylinder petrol and diesel engines and even a V10 diesel but what attracted most interest (if not buyers) was the choice of a 4.2 litre (255 cubic inch) V8 or a 6.0 litre (366 cubic inch) W12, the most potent of the latter rated at a then impressive 444 HP (horsepower).  Unfortunately, most who could afford the hefty price lingered not long over the impressive specification but focused instead on the badge, still so associated with the old Beetle.  By all accounts, the Phaeton was a fine piece of engineering and highly regarded by the critics but, over fifteen years, fewer than 85,000 were sold, the line never profitable and the depreciation on the W12 was famously high, the failure of the range always explained by the lack of cachet the VW brand enjoyed at that end of the market.  Failure is however a relative term, Mercedes-Benz in the 18-odd years between 1963-1981 managed to produce only 2677 of their sinister 600s yet it lent the marque a luster that, although tarnished by some decisions and products of the last quarter-century, lingers to this day, despite the tireless efforts by MBAs to devalue things.  Although doubtlessly also sold at a loss, Mercedes-Benz gained much from the 600; VW got little from the Phaeton.

Samizdat

Samizdat (pronounced sah-miz-daht or suh-myiz-daht)

(1) A clandestine publishing system (really, an ecosystem of sometimes connected but often independent systems) within the Soviet Union, by which forbidden works of literature were reproduced and circulated (also called “underground publishing”).

(2) A work or periodical circulated by this system (a samizdat publication).

1966: A direct borrowing from the Russian самизда́т (samizdat) (self-publishing), the construct being сам (sam) (self) + изда́т (izdát), an abbreviation of изда́тельство (izdátelʹstvo) (publishing house, publishing), the word samizdat coined as a jocular allusion to the compound name of official Soviet publishing organs (Gosizdát for Gosudárstvennoe izdátel'stvo (State Publishing House)).  Even among historians of the Cold War opinion must still be divided on whether samizdat remains a foreign term (and thus italicized) or has been assimilated into English (and thus not italicized); whichever is used, use within a document should be consistent.  A samizdatchik was a person involved in the production or distribution of samizdat.  In English language publications, the first known use of samizdat was in 1966 but the word clearly was in use in the Soviet Union (and presumably elsewhere behind the Iron Curtain) at least as early as the late 1950s and the clandestine production, copying and distribution of works banned by church or state authorities had been practiced for millennia.  Samizdat & samizdatchik are nouns; the noun plural is samizdats or samizdaty.

Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak’s (1890–1960), first edition, 1957.

The companion word was tamizdat, a direct borrowing from the Russian тамизда́т (tamizdát) literally “published there”, the construct being там (tam) (there) + изда́ть (izdátʹ).  That was a form of clandestine distribution in which writings published abroad were smuggled into the Soviet Union or other places behind the Iron Curtain.  Such works could be by foreign authors, by those in the Soviet Union or those in exile (self-imposed or otherwise); the definitional point was the publications were always banned.  A tamizdatchik was a person involved in the production or distribution of tamizdat although, as was the case with samizdatchiks, mere possession of a copy of something illicit could be enough for the security forces to apply the label; guilt by association often a popular legal device in authoritarian states.  The tamizdat tradition is less celebrated but there have been some notable titles.  Boris Pasternak’s (1890–1960) novel Doctor Zhivago was smuggled to Milan and there published in 1957 with Russian language copies soon appearing as tamizdats, swapped, bartered and sold in the vibrant underground trade in Moscow and Leningrad (the old imperial name Saint Petersburg restored in 1991).  The author was in 1958 awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature which didn’t best please the Politburo, compelling him to decline the award.  Times have changed and the novel is now part of the Russian high school curriculum.

Tamizdat Inc

Founded in 1998 and now based in Brooklyn, New York, Tamizdat Inc. is a NPO (non-profit organization) dedicated to promoting and facilitating international cultural exchange.  It appears to be focused on pop culture and originally was established to assist musicians from Central and Eastern Europe reach broader audiences, its activities including organizing tours by bands and staging music festivals.  Prior to streaming services going mainstream, Tamizdat for some years in the early 2000s ran a bricks & mortar music shop and CD distribution centre based in Prague (capital of the Czech Republic) but more recently it seems most involved with assisting those involved in some form of “art” to gain visas to visit the US.  Presumably, serious operations like the CCP (Chinese Communist Party) view Tamizdat Inc with the same sceptical eye they cast upon subversive outfits like the Vatican or the Falun Gong.

The Culture of Samizdat, Literature and Underground Networks in the Late Soviet Union (2020) by Josephine von Zitzewitz.

Although used mostly by historians and political scientists, samizdat is an accepted term in the jargon of literary theory and its use is not restricted to the Soviet Union or the states behind the old Iron Curtain.  Within the discipline, the term denotes certain “underground writing” (self-publication), circulated in typescript or copies produced on photocopiers or other duplicating machines; what (in this context) makes it samizdat is content expressing views proscribed by the state.  The word entered Western consciousness in 1966 when details emerged of the Sinyavsky–Daniel trial, conducted in Moscow the previous year.  Andrei Sinyavsky (1925–1997) was a literary critic but it was the material he wrote under the pseudonym Abram Tertz which saw Moscow brand him a “dissident”.  That what he wrote was critical of the communist regime was bad enough but his texts were smuggled out of the country and published in the West before returning as contraband, thereby circumventing the state’s strict (and bafflingly inconsistent) censorship regime.

Obviously guilty as sin, Mr Sinyavsky and fellow malcontent Yuli Markovich (1925–1988) were convicted of anti-Soviet agitation in a “show trial” and remarkably, history records them as the first Soviet writers to be convicted solely on the basis of their written words.  Plenty over the decades had been sentenced (sometimes to death) on charges in some way involving what they’d written, but Sinyavsky & Daniel served six years in a penal colony just for the words.  For the Kremlinologists, the most intriguing aspect of the trial was the prosecutor revealing the existence of a large body of underground literature circulating within the Soviet Union so the point of this “show trail” was not to secure a couple of convictions (rarely difficult in a Moscow court) but to act as a warning to other dissidents.  Being a dissident was not easy and one of the under-appreciated difficulties was that the state quasi-tolerated what came to be called “official dissidents”; those who were permitted to be critical… up to a point.  This approach functioned both within the country as a “safety valve” and, for Western viewers, an indication things were not as repressive as anti-Soviet propaganda claimed.  Unfortunately, as the political climate shifted, “official dissidents” could find what was tolerated one month could be judged unacceptable the next with consequences ranging from tiresome to serious.

The Gulag Archipelago by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn (1918–2008), first edition, 1968.

Thus the attraction of adopting a pseudonym and publishing abroad, an additional benefit being duplicating machines were freely available in the West and hundreds or even thousands of copies cheaply could be produced in a way impossible in the Soviet Union where such machines were rare and their use diligently monitored.  As a form of deterrence, the 1966 Sinyavsky–Daniel show trial was not wholly effective because in 1968 the nuclear physicist Andrei Sakharov (1921–1989) completed his essay Reflections on Progress, Peaceful Coexistence in which he described the anti-ballistic missile defense projects being explored by both Moscow and Washington as likely to increase the threat of nuclear war.  Initially distributed within the Soviet Union in samizdat, it was smuggled to the West and published in translation.  As a punishment, Sakharov was removed from his role in military research and restricted to studying theoretical physics.  Even more famous was Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s (1918–2008) The Gulag Archipelago which, written between 1958-1968, was first published in Paris in 1968.  An exploration of the vast system of Soviet labor camps and penal colonies, the sprawling, three volume work included interviews, reports, statistics and an account of the author’s own experience as a Gulag prisoner.  In the West it remains the best known samizdat and prior to publication, the text in Russian did circulate in the Soviet Union although not until 1989 (in the days of Glasnost (openness) and Perestroika (restructuring) was it openly on sale in some bookshops.

The audio equivalent of all this is magnitzdat, denoting material recorded on magnetic tapes that went on unlawfully to be circulated.  Originally, the audio tape recordings were of spoken text and took advantage of several quirks in the Soviet criminal code: (1) While citizens could not own printing presses or duplicating machines, they were permitted to own tape-recorders and by the mid-1950s, Japanese machines, although rare and expensive, had begun to appear and listening was often a communal experience, (2) although the production of more than six copies of a typewritten text was unlawful, there were no restrictions on duplicating recordings and (3) the only legal liability for the content of a recording accrued to those recorded, not those involved in production or distribution. The construct of magnitizdat was магнитофон (magnit(ofon)) (literally “magnetic tape recorder”) + изда́ть (izdát).  Because of the relatively small numbers of real-to-reel tape recorders available, behind the Iron Curtain, the printed samizdats & tamizdats had a much more profound and far-reaching effect but, in an indication of what might have been possible had the technology been available, by the late 1970s cheap, portable cassette tape players enjoyed wide ownership in Iran and the people around Grand Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini (1900-1989; Supreme Leader, Islamic Republic of Iran, 1979-1989), then in exile in Paris, maintained an energetic programme of distribution to Iran of tapes containing his incendiary speeches against Mohammad Reza Pahlavi (1919–1980; last Shah of Iran 1941-1979).  Easily duplicated and shared within communities, the Ayatollah’s message spread probably at least as rapidly as would have occurred had he been allowed to broadcast on radio or television and the rest is history.

Lindsay Lohan, Confessions of a Broken Heart (Daughter to Father) (2005), 2Crow Bootleg.

Technically of course, a magnitzdat was conceptually similar to a “bootleg” recording, a form which in the West enjoyed in heyday in the 1970s & 1980s.  The term “bootlegging” dates from the late eighteenth century when it was used by British customs and excise officers to describe the trick smugglers used to hide contraband in their large sea-boots.  Since then, it’s been applied variously including (1) the distilling, transporting and selling of unlawful liquor (2) unlicensed copies of software and (3) unauthorized recordings of music and film.  In music, bootleg recordings began to appear in some volume in the 1960s and originally were often from live performances.  Frequently created from tapes of dubious quality with little or no editing, these bootlegs generally were tolerated by the industry because they tended to circulate among fans who anyway purchased the official product and were thought of just a form of free promotional material.  Later, when things became more organized and bootleggers began distributing replicas of official releases, the attitude changed and for decades the music and software industries fought ongoing battles against bootleg copies (which in some non-Western markets represented in excess of 90% of software installations).

Broken English (1979) by Marianne Faithfull (1946-2025).

Marianne Faithfull undeniably was beautiful but before Broken English her discography had been a predictable pastiche of any number of “girl singers” of the 1960s, the music rarely original, usually melodic and inoffensive but never with an arrangement hinting her output could be thought “interpretative”.  Broken English startlingly was different and rarely has a repertoire better suited a “gin soaked” voice.  However there was one track with lyrics deemed in some places “obscene” (the words now would raise barely an eyebrow) so in those markets the album appeared with the offending track deleted.  That led to a lively trade in “bootleg” copies (ie those produced for sale in less censorious jurisdictions) and before long most regulators bowed to reality, allowing their citizens to hear Ms Faithful sing the words many likely would hear while walking along city streets.

While obviously there can in form be similarities in samizdats, tamizdats, magnitzdats and bootlegs, the motives for their production and distribution differ.  “Bootleg copies” of this and that are money-making devices that generate profit by evading copyright, thereby denying the payment of royalties to those who hold the IP (intellectual property) or distribution rights whereas the Russian trio existed to publish material proscribed by state censorship.  Behind the Iron Curtain, for those involved in the means of production or distribution, there could be a profit motive (especially resellers in the “secondary market” and beyond) but the primary rationale was to avoid the censor’s pen.  Although philosophers have for millennia discussed and explained the nature of the institutions such as organized religion and what would come to be called “the nation state” (and latterly, political scientists have with increasing levels of complexity added to the literature), operating in parallel with theoretical niceties such as “consent”, “distributive justice” and “social contracts” is “power”.  Politics, as it is practiced, was detailed by the Florentine diplomat Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli, 1469–1527) in Il Principe (The Prince, 1532), a kind of “owner’s handbook” of power and its retention and its core dynamic is what’s now known as regime survival, an imperative which long predates Renaissance Italy and although tactics may vary, the strategy remains the same, whether in a besieged Constantinople in 1453, in the Führerbunker in 1945, in the Oval Office in 2021 or among Ayatollahs in Tehran in 2026.  Censorship is an important component in regime survival because if alternative thoughts are allowed freely to circulate, people might get ideas and princes, popes and presidents all well know where that may lead.

Court of the Star Chamber (1951), gouache on paper by Cecil Doughty (1913–1985).

Although created in the mid-twentieth century, the work is in the style of a "period correct" woodcut.  The Star Chamber was formed because of the courts of Common Law and Chancellery had become inefficient, rule-bound and susceptible to external influences and initially it functioned well but later (especially under the seventeenth century Stuarts) it became a tool of repression.

In the West, the notion of “freedom of speech” is a recent arrival; edicts banning “seditious and heretical works” were proclaimed in 1529 during the reign of Henry VIII (1491–1547; King of England (and Ireland after 1541) 1509-1547) who shortly would change his mind about what constituted “heresy”.  Within a decade of the first proclamations, laws were passed requiring books must be licensed for printing by Privy Council or other royal nominees, an indication the printing press in its time was as disruptive an influence as the internet and social media would later prove; in moves that would be applauded by later Soviet governments, in England and elsewhere in Europe, severe restrictions were imposed on the importation of foreign books.  Had these measures worked as intended, political and intellectual life would have been very different but in England (as in Europe), underground and unlicensed printing presses were soon active and often highly productive.  By 1557, the Stationers' Company (an outgrowth of the London craft guild of printers) was granted a “charter of incorporation” which stipulated only members of the company (or others holding a special patent) were allowed to print any work for sale in the kingdom.  In 1586, the Court of Star Chamber introduced an ordinance mandating that no printing press might be set up in any place other than London or the university towns of Oxford and Cambridge, the point being that in those places the state possessed the infrastructure to supervise what was being produced.  As the Star Chamber was inclined to do, under the act of 1637 it imposed harsh punishments upon transgressors and even after the court was in 1641 abolished by the Long Parliament the repression not only continued but the consequences for illicit printing became more severe.  Remarkable as it sounds, under the rule of Oliver Cromwell (1599–1658; Lord Protector of the Commonwealth 1653-1658), publishers and printers may have looked back on the administration of the Star Chamber as an enlightened period.  The puritanical Cromwell in 1655 actually banned all unofficial publications but this was found to create more problems than it solved and four years later the Rump Parliament permitted the printing of a limited number of licensed newsbooks but distribution was restricted.

So censorship was not invented by the Tsars or comrade Stalin (1878-1953; Soviet leader 1924-1953).  The significance of the Stationers' Company’s charter was that structurally it created a regime strikingly similar to that which prevailed in the Soviet Union in which the entire publishing industry could be thought “the government printer”.  What members of the company were compelled to do was record prospectively in the Stationers' Register any publications they proposed to print, something which has made research difficult for historians because not everything recorded ended up being printed.  Nevertheless, the Register remains an important source document of literary activity in the era and although the original purpose had been to prevent the spread of seditious publications, lawyers began to use the entries as evidence when attempting to assert copyright.  That was at the time too novel a notion to impress the judges but the register form part of the template for the first English Copyright Act (1709), which provided the framework on which the rights of writers and publishers would be codified.  Lawyers who experienced the often futile task of arguing their cases before the Star Chamber would have found the Tsarist and Soviet models regulating publishing refreshingly familiar and concepts such as samizdat & tamizdat would have needed little explanation.

Bone Music by Stephen Coates.  The x-ray discs are now minor collectables and while all those decades what Russians paid most influenced by what was claimed to be "on the cut", buyers now especially value the best images, skulls among the more desirable.

The ever inventive Russian youth were early adopters of bootleg recordings and combined recycling with a unique form of magnitzdat.  Because the Communist Party was as scared of rock music as it was of tracts about Western democracy and human rights, such sounds were banned and damned as subversive, decadent, capitalist, imperialist etc; in an authoritarian state, the exact form of the damnation is less important than the fact some label has been applied.  So, rock albums were hard to get but in Soviet homes gramophones (record players) were common so all that was needed was the media.  That was found in the rubbish discarded by hospitals, x-ray images turning out to be an ideal material for cutting the grooves which could be played on a gramophone.   Known by a variety of terms including ribs, music on ribs, jazz on bones or bone music, although the first were produced as early as 1946, most date from the 1950s & 1960s, cut into 7-inch discs (the size of the old 45 rpm “single”).  The machines used to “cut the grooves” were reputedly old 78 rpm phonographs, modified by skilled technicians, trained by the state to do stuff in the service of socialism.  Because of the nature of the material, they had a short life (managing a dozen plays was exceptional) and the quality was (by the standards of commercially produced vinyl pressings) appalling but alternatives were scarce and the improvised recording were cheap, often selling for a few kopeks with only the most desirable bands attracting more than a ruble.

Bone music: A early form of a digital disc.

That so many discarded X-rays were available in a nation in which usually there were shortages of just about everything except Vodka, was a product of circumstances.  With the breakdown of public health systems in the immediate aftermath of World War II (1939-1945) at a time when close to 20 million soldiers and displaced civilians were moving between countries, an increase in the spread of tuberculosis concerned the authorities and the Soviet government, like many, embarked on a vast programme of chest X-rays.  As a public health initiative it was a success but it resulted in large libraries of X-rays being stored in hospitals.  Because these contained a silver nitrate substance, they were a fire hazard and, after a couple of conflagrations, a twelve month limit was imposed on storage so hospital administrators were happy to give their old stocks to anyone who asked.  So, the input cost of the raw material was zero and the production costs were marginal which meant that even if the retail unit price of a bone music cut was less than a ruble, with high volumes, it was by Soviet standards a lucrative business model.  Customer satisfaction however was variable because, bought on street corners, the audio quality was unpredictable as was the content; until played, a buyer couldn’t be certain what they’d bought.  Noting the trend, the government passed a law banning the home-production of recordings of “a criminally hooligan trend” but rock ‘n’ roll was here to stay.